A friend in need
by EmptySky
Summary: Calls after midnight were never a good thing. In Danny's experience, nothing good ever happened after midnight. So when Steve called at 2.56am, it could only mean trouble.


'A friend in need' written by EmptySky, betaed by pearlydewdrop (thank you!)

Set after Episode 5.07 - Ina Paha.

 ** **A friend in need****

Calls after midnight were never a good thing. In Danny's experience, nothing good ever happened after midnight. The decision to end his marriage and to get a divorce was made some time late at night. Being told that Rachel's baby was, in fact, Stan's and not his happened minutes after midnight. The last time his phone rang that late, Steve called him out to a triple homicide in the woods where Danny had tripped over some roots in the dark and sustained a concussion. He could go on and on, so when his cell phone vibrated on the nightstand and roused him from a deep sleep, Danny just knew it could not mean anything good.

The sudden noise ended his sleep abruptly as Danny startled awake, jerking to his side before realizing just what was going on. One look at the alarm clock - showing 2.56 - had him groaning and reaching over, blindly hitting his hand on the nightstand. Still feeling sleepy, it took Danny three attempts of fumbling around before finally being able to grasp the phone and bring it up to his face. He squinted at the display and dropped his head back down with a grunt.

McGarrett. Of course.

Not feeling up to exchanging pleasantries at this ungodly hour, he accepted the call with a forceful swipe of his finger.

"Yeah."

"Danny?"

"No, it's the Easter Bunny. Of course it's me, you just called my number! If you tell me it was an accident I might kill you first thing in the morning. What's the matter?"

"Danny…"

Danny frowned and sat up, rubbing his eyes tiredly. Something didn't sit right with him. He knew how Steve sounded when he was tired, and this had nothing to do with fatigue or having just woken up. Steve did not sound like he was quite "there". His voice sounded different, more husky and a bit deeper than usual. His speech was slurred, heavy on the 'n's. Danny listened in more closely and heard Steve's breath hitch on the other end. Something wasn't right.

"Steve, are you okay? Talk to me."

There was silence at first, then another one of those weird hitched breaths. If Danny didn't know it better, he would think that Steve was trying not to cry.

"I'm… I… I wasn't sure you'd answer. I don't know. I thought you might be dead."

And just like that, Danny no longer felt tired. He threw his blanket aside and got out of bed. He kept the phone tightly pressed to his ear while he rummaged through his closet for clean clothes to wear.

"I'm not. You hear me? I'm alive and I've never been better. How about you, Steve, are you alright?"

"I don't know," Steve admitted, sounding confused. "I thought you were dead. Wo Fat shot you in the head, I think. I saw you fall… I don't feel so good. Can you come?"

That Steve even had to ask the question after calling him, more than just woozy, in the middle of the night, showed just how out of it Steve seemed to be. And for him not to remember that his nemesis was dead - at his own hand, at that - was alarming.

Danny hastily put on a clean shirt and finished buttoning and zipping up his pants, slipping into his shoes at the same time.

"I'm on my way. You're home, right? Stay right where you are and try not to shoot me when I come in. Hold on, okay? I'm coming."

"Okay…"

Circumventing most known traffic road regulations, Danny made it to Steve's in record time. The streets were mostly empty, and with Steve unable to speak coherently, the call even breaking off mid-sentence, Danny went as fast as possible without being in danger of losing control of the car.

Just earlier that week, Steve had been taken by the hands of Wo Fat. They had gotten him back quickly, but he'd been badly injured. After two days in hospital, Steve had appeared to be on the road to recovery.

'I should have known things were going too smoothly,' he thought, narrowly avoided crashing into Steve's truck in his haste to pull into the driveway. Breathing a sigh to have made it without causing an incident, he jogged up to the house and swiftly punched in the code to disable the set alarm.

Inside, everything was dark and quiet. Danny's hand reached for his gun holster, only to come up empty as he had left both the holster and his gun in the locker box at home in his hurry to make it. Inwardly cursing, he fumbled for the light switch and turned it on.

"Steve?"

Danny checked all rooms on the ground floor but didn't find his friend anywhere. He cautiously headed up the stairs, calling Steve's name and trying to figure out his whereabouts.

"Hey, Steve? Steven!"

"Danno?"

Danny halted in his steps before following the strangely tentative voice coming from the bedroom. He hesitated only the slightest moment, then walked inside and turned on the lights.

"Oh buddy," Danny sighed and ran a hand through his hair, alarmed at the sight in front of him but calmer to see that there was no immediate threat.

It was a rather pitiful sight. Steve sat in the middle of his head, half covered by a blanket, still clutching his cell phone in his hands tightly. His grey shirt was dark from being soaked in sweat. He was shivering, his hair matted and plastered to his forehead. His eyes were glassy and staring at Danny feverishly.

"I guess your body reached its limit of what it can take, eh?" Danny said sympathetically and moved in closer, slowing down when he noticed Steve watching him distrustful. "You're not feeling your best, huh pal?"

Danny reached out and touched Steve's shoulder, wincing at how warm he felt. Steve flinched, his confused eyes following Danny's every move. It was an unusual situation. Steve was invincible, never got sick and yet here he was, reduced to a shivering mess. The strain of being abducted, drugged and tortured days earlier must have run down his immune system and made him susceptible to the flu currently making its rounds at HPD.

"Danny…" Steve repeated and brought up his trembling hand, clumsily landing on Danny's jaw, his thumb brushing over his soft beard stubbles.

"It's me, buddy, I promise. You called me, remember? You called and I came."

"And you came."

"Yes, I came." Danny placed his hand over Steve's and squeezed it tightly to prove that he was not an imagination. He smiled when a shimmer of recognition flickered over Steve's face. "I know you're unwell and would rather be left alone, but we've got to get you changed into dry clothes. Come on, let's get you out of bed."

Danny grasped the blanket and pulled it back, relieved to see Steve was wearing clothes, but clucking his tongue at seeing his pants - as well as the bedding - soaked in sweat as well. He gently reached for Steve's hand and coaxed him out of bed, frowning when the other man felt alarmingly hot to the touch. Steve staggered and would have fallen if it wasn't for Danny's quick reflexes. He slung one of Steve's arms over his shoulder and wrapped his arm around Steve's waist, not unlike during their rescue mission, permitting him to lean onto Danny while leading him to the chair at the far end of the room.

"I thought you were dead. Wo Fat was there and he shot you. There was so much blood…" Steve trailed off, becoming more agitated.

"No, babe. That never happened. The fever is messing with your head. Did you have a nightmare? Wo Fat is dead. Do you remember? He kidnapped you four days ago, but you managed to shoot the bastard in the head. He didn't touch me at all."

"Are you sure?"

"Very sure. Here, sit down. I'll be right over there, taking care of your bed, alright?" Danny let Steve glide down until he was sitting, patted his cheek to make sure he was tracking him, and then went to the bed.

Danny made sure Steve was okay with him being out of reach, and opened the bedroom window wide. It was rather chilly outside, but the air was so thick with perspiration that fresh air was much needed. Next, Danny opened Steve's closet and took out a set of new bedding. He had spent the night at Steve's place before and therefore didn't need to search for long, finding the needed items immediately. He efficiently stripped the bed, tossed the soiled linen on the ground and put on the new bedding made out of soft cotton. Next, he took out a set of fresh clothes from the top dresser, placed it at the end of the bed and went into the bathroom. There, he took a washcloth from a cabinet and wetted it with tepid water before returning. Steve sat just the way he had left him. Danny gestured to his clothes.

"Come on, big guy. Let's get you cleaned up."

Only Steve didn't seem to understand. Danny set the cloth aside and assisted in pulling his shirt over his head. He winced at the bruises mottling Steve's chest and the puckered skin where he had been tortured with a cattle prod. Danny reached for the washcloth and gently ran it over Steve's face. Steve relaxed fractionally and closed his eyes, tilting his head aside to allow for better access. Danny didn't hesitate and washed his neck, over his back and chest, down both arms and his hands, not sparing an inch before setting it aside. He picked up the new shirt and helped Steve inside. The water seemed to have gotten him a bit more alert, as Steve helped raise his arms in order to put on the shirt.

"Is Grace okay?"

"What?" Danny frowned, but nodded. "Yeah, she's okay."

Once again, he dampened the washcloth in the bathroom, set it aside and pulled Steve into a standing position. Steve almost stumbled, but Danny made sure to steady him.

"Let's get your pants off. They're wet and you need to put on some dry clothes, buddy," Danny said and nodded encouragingly when Steve reached for his pants and sluggishly pushed them down. Danny steadied him further when Steve lifted each leg to step out of the pants, and pushed the soiled clothes away with his foot. "Hold onto my shoulders so you won't fall over. You've got a fever and I've got to cool you down. I'll wash your legs only, and we'll never talk about this again, are we clear?"

Upon receiving a confused nod, Danny knelt on one knee and quickly ran the washcloth over Steve's thighs and shins. As promised, he spared the rest and straightened back up.

"What about Grace, are you sure she's okay?"

"I'm absolutely, one-hundred percent sure, you hear me? I talked to her on the phone before it was her bedtime. She's with Rachel and she's sleeping. As should you, buddy. It's the middle of the night. You need to rest. Let's get some pants on you and get you back to bed."

As Danny helped him step into clean pants, opting for underwear as it was less constricting, Steve kept asking question after question. If Kono was safe, where his sister was, if Chin had also seen the body of Wo Fat, if Lou's children were alright… Danny reacted with the patience of a saint instead of telling him to stop, knowing that his friend needed the reassurance. It was a bit like when Grace had been younger, only that Steve was pushing his forties and probably needed some medicine.

Once finished dressed, Danny wrapped his arm around Steve's waist again and they shuffled back to the bed. Danny gently lowered him to the mattress, helped him with lying down and covered him with the blanket. He closed the window when Steve began to shiver.

"I don't like this," Steve said, sounding truly miserable, and Danny nodded sympathetically.

"I know, and I'm sorry. You and me, we're going to see a doc tomorrow, get you checked out. If you stay here, I'll go and fetch you something to get you through the night. How does that sound? Good? Okay. I'll be in the bathroom."

Danny picked up the soiled laundry from the floor and placed it in the hamper next to the shower. He rummaged through the bathroom cabinets and retrieved a pill to combat the fever, as well as the prescription painkiller and the muscle relaxant Steve had gotten from the doctor after being checked out in hospital earlier this week. He filled Steve's toothbrush mug with water before returning and asking his friend to take them.

"What are those?" Steve asked, distrustful, even though he had already established that it was Danny who offered the pills.

"The white capsule is to lower your fever. I can't find the thermometer to check how high, but you feel pretty hot. The pink one is from your doctor, to relax your muscles and stop the ache. The last one is for pain, should you be in any pain. It'll also make you sleepy, and you need to go back to sleep. Can you take them, for me? I promise you, you'll feel better afterwards."

"You promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"Okay." Steve took the pills with trembling fingers and downed all three with a big gulp from the mug. "Are you sure Wo Fat won't come?"

"Absolutely. He's dead and Max performed his autopsy. No loop holes there," Danny reinforced and smoothed some hair from Steve's face gently, not being able to help himself; the man looked so helpless he needed to do something.

Steve watched him for another moment before closing his eyes and shifting until he had found a comfortable position. Danny rubbed his face, got the chair from the far wall and sat down right next to the bed. He pushed off his shoes, reached over Steve's slumbering form and retrieved the free pillow from next to him to place behind his back. Danny put his feet up on the edge of the mattress and slouched down until he felt somewhat comfortable. It wasn't the most comfortable position he had ever slept in but he'd had worse.

They were both on their way to falling asleep, when Steve's breath hitched once more and he jerked up, tangled in his blanket. Danny sat up as well and placed his arm on Steve, reassuring him soothingly.

"You're okay, Steve. Go back to sleep, I'll watch over you."

"You got my back."

It wasn't even a question this time.

"You bet! Always. Try to sleep, yeah? You'll feel better in the morning."

After that, Steve appeared much calmer. He relaxed to the point of actually falling asleep, no longer as restlessly and barely tossing and turning anymore. Danny watched him for a while, making sure that he really was asleep and resting comfortably.

It took a lot longer for Danny to settle down. By the time he did, the sun was close to rising again. He was tired, deeply exhausted from the lack of sleep. But to be there for his best friend, who had never let him down before in all the years they'd known each other, was more important. It felt good to be able to give back. To see Steve asleep after having experienced a horror Danny wasn't sure he'd even learnt half of was worth it. And with that knowledge in mind and a soft smile on his lips, his left hand resting against that of Steve's, Danny finally fell asleep.


End file.
